


For Some Excuse To Stay

by slightlyjillian



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Get Together, Post-Canon, Second Chances, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlyjillian/pseuds/slightlyjillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-EW. Mariemaia’s coming into her own, but will she have to give up her most favorite person in the process?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Some Excuse To Stay

**Author's Note:**

> I had a hankering for Wufei/Mariemaia get-together fic. _chuckle_ So much so I figured I'd give them a whirl. First attempt.

Mariemaia could no longer count the number of times she had begged for the guitar or the lessons. Then she had gone through three different groups of her peers searching for capable musicians that might last a full set of songs. Asking Van had been humbling for her, but he cared more about his bass than his pride. And Belle reeked when she started to sweat, but she was the only one of the drummers who had any sense of rhythm let alone style. The twins always looked terrified with their pale, wide-open eyes. At least they _practiced_ playing the keys and electric.

She opened the door only just enough to see a few dark bodies moving around the open space in front of the stage.

“I just imagine they’re all fat OZ soldiers,” one of the twins said.

He was answered by Belle’s shrill retort, “My uncle’s a fat OZ soldier, mind your tongue!”

Mariemaia closed her eyes briefly. They only had to make it through the one show. That had to be enough to prove that she wasn’t just talking when she said she was going to do things. And he had promised he would go if she could book a legitimate show with her failure of a garage band.

When she opened her eyes, the shadows and dark adjusted to be definite faces and objects. She still didn’t see Wufei. Her fingers tightening around the edge of the door, she whispered, “You promised. Promised!”

Then the door shoved open into her and Mariemaia stumbled back clutching her nose. Her eyesight full of her bright purple nails until she could focus on the tall, blonde beauty surveying the makeshift greenroom. Van stepped forward wearing a wig of red, plastic streamers. Had he found it in some dark corner of this dingy place?

“Did you decide on a band name yet or do I get to make one up when I introduce you?” asked Dorothy Catalonia. She was one of Mariamaia’s mother’s friends. She also spent way too much time with Wufei, but Mariemaia was certain that they had never been more than just friends.

“Our Way To Mars,” said the twins, in uncommon agreement.

“One Girl Four Boys,” contributed Belle.

“One? _One_ girl? Can you count?” Mariemaia gaped. She rearranged her tight skirt again. Une didn’t know that she had it, although she had reassured (or convinced, rather) Dorothy that it had been definitely ‘okay’ed into the teenager’s wardrobe. “Oh, perhaps you’re admitting to something, Belle? Because I’m most definitely the girl.”

“Of course, I can count,” replied the drummer, which was no answer at all.

“You’ll be The Seventeens and I’ll remind you that no one in the band is having a beverage stronger than a root beer.” Dorothy tilted her head to the side and seemed to hear something from the stage area. “Ready, children? You’ve got forty-five minutes and then the real band goes on whether you’re done or not.”

Mariemaia opened her mouth, but a sudden anxious thought took over everything else. “Who’s here?” she tried to sound casual and tucked her hair behind her ears.

Dorothy appeared to give the question sincere thought. “Trowa came.”

“He’s always here!” Mariemaia urged. Wouldn’t Dorothy say something if she had seen him. Wouldn’t he have said he had come to see her? “Anyone else?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to tell you…” Dorothy’s grin pulled sideways. “So just do your best kids.”

“I’m actually sixteen,” Van said, his eyelevel somewhere around Dorothy’s armpits. Mariemaia grabbed his ears and gave him a gentle shake. The older woman merely chuckled, leaving the door open behind her.

“Grab your gear, remember the set list.” Mariemaia rubbed the sweat from her palms. “We’re here because we’re good enough to be here. Dorothy might own the place but she doesn’t book the shows.”

“Whatever,” Belle said, hurrying past to where her kit waited. Mariemaia tried to stop from breathing in that moment. Belle definitely perspired with eagerness.

She followed and somehow everyone made it onto the stage and under the bright lights, so that she couldn’t really see anyone except the twins on either side of her and Dorothy’s bare shoulders as she stepped forward to introduce the band.

Mariemaia ignored the polite applause to yell out, “Ready, set, go…”

The clash of instruments were like five equally ferocious ocean waves trying to break against the same rock. Mariemaia sensed that Belle had raced ahead and Van might as well have been playing his own song.

She squeezed her fingers around the guitar strings and strummed somewhere inbetween them. Her voice mismatched with the melody. She had to hope that it was too loud, so cutting edge that this train-wreck could be mistaken for something intentional. This was not the song she had written. In the back left corner of her vision, Van jumped around the stage.

The lights flickered and danced around her feet, which was when Mariemaia realized she hadn’t looked up once. _The lead singer should make some eye contact,_ she scolded herself. _Even if I’m faking it._

 _Where is he? Did he come? Will he show up late?_ She looked through the faces when the light illuminated them in snatches like flashes for photography. But they only showed her that much. Expressionless faces. A group talking to each other, ignoring the stage. A person so drunk he wouldn’t remember to which music he threw himself. Trowa, leaning against the pillar.

Perhaps Wufei would be somewhere there.

The last chord rang out long, Van seemingly unable to let it die. Mariemaia strummed harder turning to scowl at him, but the boy had his eyes fused shut.

“Van!” she shouted, away from the mic or so she thought. The sound reverberated through the room just as the electric cut off completely. She winced, but Belle already had started hitting the cymbals to start the next song.

 _Not so fast,_ Mariemaia groaned. The twins hadn’t waited for her either. She moved her fingers to catch up on the next chords of the song.

Then something quick and sharp hit her along the arm. Then a second snap and a third. Three! She had already lost so many strings!

Pretending to play the best she could, Mariemaia sobbed into the microphone. What a disaster.

But perhaps he hadn’t come. Perhaps he didn’t see this. She let her frustration coil and tighten into her useless, curled fingers.

And if the first person she saw when the lights turned on was Une’s impassive gaze trailing across a too-short-skirt, Mariemaia had long gone too numb to care.

***

“I thought I saw you in there,” Trowa said, walking closer to where the other man leaned against an abandoned ticket window. Trowa pushed a cigarette free from the pack until he could get it with his fingers. He wanted to blame it on the poor lighting of the streets just before the lamps turned on, but from the way they were shaking he had gone too long between smokes. It was far too late to start lying to himself about his bad habits.

“So Quatre couldn’t convince you to quit?” Wufei peered along his nose looking at Trowa but not quite focusing on anything until he let his eyes drop.

“Nah,” Trowa shook his head. “He means well, but I didn’t listen to anyone or make the best choices there in our early twenties. Damn, if I didn’t think I had already seen everything and done everything. Twenty-three? We were just kids!”

Wufei didn’t say anything. Taking in the casual dress of his friend amused Trowa. The Chinese man wore jeans fraying over his square-toed boots. His button down shirt was notably _unbuttoned_ with a white t-shirt underneath.

Trowa blew out another relaxing drag from the cigarette and chuckled dryly, “I didn’t know you owned anything that wasn’t a Preventer uniform. How long have you been serving? Since the…”

“Ten years this Christmas,” Wufei supplied. “Not consecutively. But Une wants to count the time I spent on colony as ‘undercover’, I suppose.”

“They just want an excuse to pin another medal on a war hero.” Trowa dropped the spent stick onto the ground and covered it with his shoe. “Election year.”

Wufei did smile at that. “You know it.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you came to half-pint’s debut,” Trowa started.

“So did you,” Wufei shrugged.

“Yeah, but I stuck around to tell her she did a decent job,” laughed Trowa. The gentle movement eased his shoulders and in the relaxation, he laughed a little too long. “You? Now you didn’t even let her know you came.”

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s got the wrong idea about me, so even if I praise her she turns it around into a confession. She’s far too young to realized that…”

Trowa interrupted, “ _Far too young?_ Is that what Sally told you?”

The other man did flicker the light of his eyes toward Trowa at that. Otherwise, they were dark and impassive in their watchfulness.

Trowa remembered the brief time they had spent together under Dekim Barton’s command. Back then Wufei had invested himself into that cause and Mariemaia. His interest hadn’t been so insincere. Trowa could recall moments when a much younger Mariemaia would run over to both boys before remembering herself and coolly coming up with some excuse to stay in their company for a while. Wufei had indulged the girl and had even liked her.

Wufei moved, noticing more of the crowd spilling out from the bar. He said, “If I can figure it out, then so can she. It’s simple arithmetic.”

“It’s never simple.” Trowa shook his head. “We just have to figure out which relationships are worth holding onto.”

“Sally refused…”

“Hey, you don’t see me with anyone either,” Trowa added, hastily following. “Just because the first person doesn’t work out…”

“Are you saying you weren’t the one to break off yours?”

“No.” Trowa glanced up at the dark sky. He only briefly saw the most enthusiastic of night stars before the streetlights took over. “No, Wufei. What I meant to say is… did you drive? I could use a ride home.”

***

“Explain to me again why you couldn’t just have the chauffeur drive you to the shops?” Wufei grumbled, running his fingers through his hair. Mariemaia dropped into the passenger seat and stared straight ahead.

He hadn’t intended to sound so cross, but neither did he like sneaking around. Plenty of people could get the wrong idea. One mislabeled shot from the paparazzi and then everyone would know exactly how Mariemaia had managed to sneak through the security of Une’s mansion.

“Go!” she insisted. “Go now. Or do you want to get caught?”

He brought the car to life and rolled forward along the country lane. Une lived far enough away from the city that they had a spectacular view of vacant grassy land for miles. Quiet trees lined the edges of the road casting shadows across the narrow lane as if they were used to keeping secrets.

Wufei kept his eyesight toward the pale yellow wildflowers and the side mirror. No one was following the car, but if anyone happened to cross their path they would certainly be spotted. Mariemaia, on the other hand, seemed to have relaxed. He could feel her sinking into the seat and soon enough she began an absent sort of humming.

“What song is that?” he asked.

“Ah, what?” she leaned forward twisting to face him. “Do you know where the main street ends at the old fairground ruins? After it turns gravel for a bit?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Wufei tilted his chin in a brief nod. “What are you scheming? I agreed to help you get a mother’s day gift…”

“I am,” she insisted with a huffiness that missed his underlying concern altogether. “That woman used to have a place where she set stuff out on a blanket, but I think she’s just staying at home.”

“Who?”

“The basket weaver.” Mariemaia dropped back and crossed her arms. “I could have done that much on my own, except she stopped coming back to the same place and right after Une actually mentioned liking some of that stuff.”

Wufei didn’t continue with his next thoughts. Who would go to a person’s home to bother them about a piece of handcrafted goods?

Glancing over he caught the movement of Mariemaia tucking her orange-tinted hair behind her ear. Mariemaia didn’t know when to quit something. He might have sighed if he hadn’t turned it into a stuttered cough at the last minute.

The car somehow found the destination that Mariemaia wanted and Wufei stopped the vehicle while still in the otherwise empty, nameless street. The closing car doors sounded as intrusive as gunshot. The only other noises were passing insects and the lofty sounds of rustling leaves. He stuffed his hands into his pockets feeling a strange rush of shyness.

“You can just say here,” Mariemaia said too quickly. So he trailed behind her at a distance, but didn’t remain with the car.

He saw discarded pieces of shined and polished wood scattered along the flagstone walkway when they suddenly became more frequent. He briefly thought they might have grown up from the ground like an untended garden. In the next moment, the broken pieces appeared like discard from an angry scuffle.

“Mariemaia,” he warned. Without much thought, he began to run, catching up to her slender back and the all too vulnerable brilliant green hoodie she wore like a target.

“I’m okay,” she raised a brow. “You act like you haven’t been around a crazy person before. She’s just a horder.”

He pulled back, losing step as she pushed forward up the stairs and had rapped the cracked screen door before he could raise another protest.

“What do you want?” The inner door swung open in a flash as if they had been watched the entire way. The woman hurried open the door forcing Mariemaia backward with a surprised laugh. “Come on inside then. I don’t have all day.”

“I’m here to buy…”

“Yes, why else. I remember you staring at my work. Girl with the orange hair. I’m going to charge you double for the trouble.”

Wufei followed surveying a front room that, apart from the lived-in clutter, revealed no threat.

Mariemaia rounded on him with a bewildering smile on her face. She said, “Sometimes the things you do are so cool. All protective like that.”

He scoffed, but let Mariemaia say her piece and examine the items the woman brought out to see. For an eccentric individual, Laurie Gundry sported the disguise of a quaint woman of a bygone era from her impeccably curled golden-grey hair to her ironed prim housedress, apron and slip-on heels.

“Oh yes, she will definitely find no better picnic basket,” Ms. Gundry nodded in stern approval. “But it won’t be cheap.”

“I wasn’t looking for something cheap,” Mariemaia snapped back with an equally cheery smile.

“No that’s quite obvious to me.” The older woman made the exchange and Mariemaia shot Wufei a very pleased grin.

Once outside, he took a long breath of the country air, which relaxed the last remnant of his tense muscles and concern. “Happy now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded, letting him open the door for her and the excessive, far-too-large basket that made her so proud. “I know how to get what I want! Don’t you doubt it.”

***

“Is there an instrument that Quatre can’t play?” Mariemaia whispered, trying her best to keep an appropriate expression on her face, one that matched the occasion. Une had gone to great lengths for this graduation party. Aside from loading herself into the shuttle, this event was the last thing on Mariemaia’s to-do list prior to university.

“He chooses not to let anyone know that he can play the flute,” Relena whispered back. “Another terribly kept secret. Trowa says it’s because Quatre doesn’t want him to feel unneeded.”

“Trowa plays the flute?” The younger girl closed her lips tight and resisted grabbing her glass for a distracting drink. Just the first song was performance, then Quatre had agreed to play for the rest of the evening. Which meant that people would be dancing. And since it was Mariemaia’s party a lot of them should dance with her. It was only proper. Polite.

Her eyes scanned the various tables and she found Wufei. He had shifted in his chair so to slouch to one side, away from Heero Yuy and closer to Dorothy Catalonia. His tie was loose and the first buttons of his dress shirt were undone. He was wearing pink under the dark jacket. She had never seen him in pink before. Then she saw Dorothy’s hands reaching for Wufei’s collar and Heero leaned back completely blocking the view.

Mariemaia jerked her head toward the piano and the person she more often remembered wearing that same color. But tonight Quatre wore all black with the contrast of a silver tie.

 _Should I recognize this song? Do I know it? Does it have some meaning? Should I ask?_ Then she lost focus on the music. Her gaze was back to Heero, chipping away at him and wondering what had happened just beyond. Dorothy’s hands had gone back to rest on the table.

“Very nice,” Relena murmured, bringing Mariemaia to the present. Grateful, the younger girl nodded, smiling too wide. The excessive gloss she had applied made holding that fake smile all to easy.

 _I won’t let him disappoint me again,_ she promised herself.

“Heero didn’t even come to my birthday party,” Relena said, unexpectedly. She had tilted her head to keep the conversation confidential. Her hair tumbling over her shoulder in the semblance of privacy.

“He _does_ go to your birthday parties,” Mariemaia shook her head. “Always, I’ve seen him. And it’s obvious to anyone with half a brain that he really does care about you.”

“But it didn’t start out that way,” Relena smiled around the edge of her champagne glass.

“Not you too? I really hate those stories where the girl isn’t the other person’s first choice,” Mariemaia grumbled, but managed to hide her frustration when the waiter served her place first to a polite scattering of applause.

Une had only paid for a dessert, but Mariemaia immediately recognized it as her favorite. She took a bite and nodded in approval. From the corners of the room, the rest of the staff marched in to rapidly serve the other guests. Soon enough the tables would be moved and then she would have to use her dance card. It was an old fashioned concept. Still, Relena had one too, everyone did, so Mariemaia hoped it would be fun.

“Having a good time?” Une arrived late, pulling out the chair on the other side.

“Yeah,” Mariemaia nodded. “Relena’s kept me company.”

“I’m sorry I got called into the office.” Une frowned, the movement causing new and familiar worry lines to creep on top of her cheekbones and into the mix of grey and brown at Une’s temple. That chestnut hair Mariemaia recognized so well had suddenly decided to change and had not slowed its revolution.

“Une, your hair is sparkling,” Mariemaia had exclaimed years ago. Then had flushed when she had realized her error. Une had only smiled briefly and had said, “Maybe I won’t dye it then.”

Eventually, the MC, Une’s lieutenant and someone Mariemaia recognized but didn’t know well, stepped up to the microphone next to the piano. Quatre stopped playing and watched also.

“Ah, yes. For the rest of the evening, Quatre will be playing for our dances. I understand that for some of the numbers he has persuaded his wife to sing for us,” the man cleared his throat. “So lets show our gratitude to Quatre Winner and Sylvia Noventa.”

They did clap as a petite blonde woman who smiled bashfully replaced the awkward, dark-haired soldier. The woman seemed rather forgettable, so Mariemaia left her seat and tried to find the pencil for her dance card. At that moment, the woman started to sing. Mariemaia’s eyebrows jumped up. “Whoa, she has lungs.”

“Try not to dance with the same person all evening,” Une suggested, leaning back to watch Mariemaia and her expression softened. “They’re all going to miss you.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving the universe,” Mariemaia retorted, secretly pleased. She immediately was stopped by Zechs Marquis and his wife, Une’s best friend. She didn’t mind Relena’s brother except when he brought up things from the past. Which was inevitable and all the time.

“Congratulations,” he said to her. “Your father would have been very proud.”

“Ah, thank you?” She couldn’t help the lilting question at the end. Half of her life she had been told to adore a father she had never met. The other half she spent trying to forget him. But Earth was not a place to forget or forgive a child the legacy of her parent.

“May I have a dance in his place?”

 _Creepy_ , Mariemaia thought, but the initial reaction subsided when he penciled his name on her card like an appointment. She nodded her head once almost bowing as he returned the paper. “Thank you,” she repeated, honestly this time.

“Carry on,” Relena nudged the girl to mingle. “Fill it up.”

She wound her way toward the person she had yet to greet for the evening, but Wufei found her first. “Oh,” she flinched, momentarily unable to breathe. “You scared me.”

One skeptical dark brow mocked her, but Mariemaia didn’t mind his peculiar quirks. She figured she knew them all and the far more interesting personality behind them. Impulsively, she offered her dance card.

“Three before me?” Wufei teased. “I thought I was your number one.”

“Work harder next time. Even Zechs got to me before you,” she laughed as he screwed up his face in exaggerated dismay. _That’s why,_ she decided. _He’s so comfortable with me._

“I’ll probably fall even further down your list next time,” Wufei said, tapping the paper with finality before handing it back. His hand didn’t linger. “Once you meet the university boys. How was it you convinced Une to go to a co-ed school?”

“I had a little help from Relena.” Mariemaia tossed her hair, short as always, but it may have hid the sudden burning of her ears. He always had to say something to reject her even when she wasn’t fourteen and writing him long letters. How had Une let her ward actually mail things like that? Did he read them? Maybe she had always had the address wrong and somehow, by some miracle, he never got them.

She hadn’t needed to find a way to escape that terrible, confusing memory as Zechs escorted her into the first dance of the evening. He made some jokes that she couldn’t resist laughing at and in turn he’d smiled as well.

“Thank you,” she hesitated, then added more quickly. “Thank you for always saying something positive about him. You know, about Treize, I mean.”

“People are many things,” Zechs accepted her thanks with a light squeeze on her shoulder. “But not so many that one doesn’t remember his friend.”

So it was with renewed energy that she eventually hunted Wufei for his dance. She hoped it was a fun song, those that were upbeat had a good energy making both partners resonate well. They were more fun.

“Find me again,” Dorothy was saying. “Because I’ve cleared my whole evening.”

“Woman,” Wufei replied in a voice that made Mariemaia’s confidence shake. Wufei didn’t talk to anyone like that anymore. Not unless he felt extremely comfortable, which was to say—never. Not unless he was with the guys or Mariemaia. Just then, Wufei saw her, and the lop-sided smile she recognized as belonging to _her_ didn’t seem any less real than the moment just before.

“Don’t forget where we parked,” Dorothy added. She grabbed his arm and briefly pressed against Wufei so that all Mariemaia saw was the bulging curve of the older woman’s chest and the suddenly very scandalous neckline. Dorothy gave Mariemaia the remnants of that wolfish grin and a wink so casual that the girl knew Dorothy meant it to be _kind_. As if Mariemaia could be agreeable, could be a co-conspirator… could be okay with…

“Are you two going out?” Mariemaia’s mouth asked moments before her mind could catch up. Fortunately, she knew her own bad habit well enough to recover with a wild swing of her arm and whacked his shoulder, the same shoulder Dorothy had… fondled.

“She’s got a lot of attitude, Dorothy does. Did you know that she let me play at her bar even when I was underage? Ha,” she forced a laugh. “Or maybe it was my ability to coerce her to see things my way, but Dorothy’s got a history of being…”

“Isn’t this our dance?” Wufei succeeded at interrupting. She suddenly became aware of the piano playing as if her ears had become dumb to everything other than the immediate and the endless ringing of Dorothy’s words. _”I’ve cleared my whole evening…_

Mariemaia followed his back and stayed some distance behind as if she had done something wrong. The emotion wrecked her mood, but enough time with Une and Relena had taught her a distancing trick: to stay numb. Not to let anyone know that inside she still felt the full strength of her own childish tantrum trapped and banging against her temples in a rhythm contrary to everything around her.

 _Numb_ , she reminded herself. _You don’t show anything. Nothing at all._

Mariemaia half pulled back when he turned around. Her throat tightened. This was her Wufei with his somewhat curious but always-listening demeanor about him. The person who had sworn loyalty to her and even after defeat found ways to fulfill the essence of that promise. Somewhere, he had become her number one. The person she trusted the most, demanded the most from, and she loved him the most. She loved him.

His touch, void of anything but the movements of the dance, wasn’t hers though. He said something and her response had been sufficient enough to let them stay silent. The finality of her choice to leave became more real, more immediate with each shuffling step.

She was leaving for a place she had never been and to be with people who would only know her from photographs in periodicals and school texts. Away from Une’s house that had become home. Away from the various people that wandered through her life, Belle and Van. The Preventers, ex-soldiers and politicians. They all would stay and she would leave. On an adventure.

But even the intrigue of something new couldn’t cheer her when she thought of giving up Wufei.

Smiling so that he wouldn’t guess, she closed her eyes against the brief threat of tears. _Don’t cry, not here… he wouldn’t understand. I can’t do this to him…_

Worse than gunshot, and she vividly remembered the pain of a lead-severed heart, Mariemaia choked down the last childish hope. She might one day be his number two, or three, or nothing.

But she would never get to be his first choice.

***.

Hilde’s arm holding the mobile communicator stretched through the doorway first. Then her glowing face appeared next, dark hair plastered to her forehead. Duo stopped mid-song lyric and casually reached over to turn down the radio as if he’d meant to do that all along and hadn’t been ignoring her.

“I’m not here,” Duo whispered.

“Too late,” Hilde shook her head and offered the communicator again. “He knows. Wufei always knows where we are.”

“Creepy, Hilde. Stop making it sound like the guy is omniscient,” Duo replied as if reciting a proverb. He had his hands on his hips but removed one to take the device at last. “All he has is a really good team of spies and…”

“My ears work too, Maxwell.”

“Ah, Wufei… I didn’t realize that was your face on here,” Duo laughed, catching only a glimpse of Hilde before she retreated to a safe distance. He stuck his tongue out at her, a movement complete unappreciated by the audience.

Duo pulled out a bench and surveyed the organized clutter of his private garage. He had retreated into his favorite space hours ago, but no one beside himself could identify anything resembling progress on his multitude of projects.

On the other hand, Preventer gear always outclassed the intergalactic communications of the general public. Duo put a grin on his face for the sake of his audience’s continuing good-humor, “So what is it this time, old friend?”

“I thought you were going to keep an eye on the university for me,” Wufei started.

 _No indirect, polite chit-chat, eh?_ Duo’s grin became strained. “She has a full unit of bodyguards. You picked them yourself, Wufei. Why aren’t you asking one of them…”

“Because Mariemaia’s got them on some sort of gag-order. She’s always making them her friends and corrupting the accuracy of the reports…”

“Wufei,” Duo couldn’t get in anything more as Wufei continued on his overly-rehearsed, predictable rant. Even in the smaller screen, Duo was certain he could see the slightly raised vein that would pop out more and more as the Asian man grew older and more stressed. Well, possibly just a different sort of stress.

“This is a big colony,” Duo finally edged in on the other’s huffy inhalation. “It’s not like Hilde and I live just around the corner. Heck, man, you lived closer to Mariemaia when she was staying on Earth and I’m sure you weren’t checking in on Une’s house every day.”

Duo paused, and when Wufei didn’t say anything, Duo noticed his own face turning a warm and warmer temperature. “Don’t tell me. You did? You did drive bys?”

“Une doesn’t take her own safety seriously enough,” came Wufei’s curt reply.

“Ah, we all know Une can take care of herself. You…” Duo ran his fingers over his mouth to wipe away whatever he might have said next.

Who was he to comment on another person’s peculiar love interests?

***

In her required course hours for literature, Mariemaia had taken a low-level overview of myths and fairytales. So if she latched onto a seemingly similar trait between her own life and that of Persephone, she counted it as having received her money’s worth for the earned credit.

So many months of her life on the colony had gone by much more quickly than she expected, then it was her mid-term break. Une had insisted that the girl alternate holidays with her new friends and returning to Earth.

“In that case, I choose friends first!” she had responded. Still, when the next break in the class schedule came, Une had sent the shuttle pass without any discussion.

As she boarded, Mariemaia recalled that the last time she’d taken space transport had been almost two years previously when the same machine, or one quite like it, had brought her to the L-2 Colonies to start her ongoing education.

She preferred the Mariemaia of the colonies now. The girl who occasional impressed her professors, and she had made enough close friends to rearrange her living to an off campus apartment. She didn’t want to go back.

 _When faced with an action you do not want, look to see which path is the honorable one and always follow it…_

She quickly, briefly, shook her head trying to knock Wufei’s voice away. Even for not seeing the man since her graduation party, it was his mannerisms that unbidden and unsought still wove their way like a second conscience through her thoughts.

What would happen when she saw him again? Had she changed enough that her heart might be a little wiser about him? And if he had moved on… or moved in with someone else—like Dorothy, she had been too cowardly to ask—would she find an accepting smile and congratulate him?

“Moved on?” Mariemaia whispered to herself with a rueful chuckle. Finding the place that matched her ticket, she settled into her seat and pressed play on the required safety video. “He was never mine to begin with.”

***

“I haven’t seen much of you lately,” Dorothy interjected into her conversation with the former princess, former queen, Relena Darlian… or Peacecraft. Or whichever name best suited the apt politicians approach.

They had met for a bright sunny luncheon at a sandwich shop near to where both women kept their business offices and approximately half-way in-between. Dorothy didn’t much care for being an afterthought in anyone’s life, but if she wanted to see Relena the compromise was part of the deal.

“We don’t see much of each other at all.” Relena grinned sideways, somewhat more of a girl now than she ever was as a teenager. She sipped her drink, then added, “But I have been preoccupied. Mariemaia has been around and I like to look in on her when I have a chance.”

“I don’t see what the fuss is over that girl,” Dorothy taunted. “Her test scores aren’t particularly remarkable and the while science has proven the biological probability of her being heir to Treize’s legacy… really, who care about those things in this decade?”

“One could say the same about me,” Relena reminded.

“Ah, you bullied your way into power…”

“Like I said.” Relena let a chilly edge linger around her words, but Dorothy was unfazed.

“On your own steam,” Dorothy concluded. “That girl was a puppet and nothing has shown her to be much grown since that time.”

Setting down her sandwich, Relena dusted the crumbs from her fingers. “Is this about Mariemaia or are you upset about something else?”

Dorothy waved her hand dismissively. “Simply irritated, I suppose,” she said, awkwardly. She resisted probing any vulnerable thoughts she could not quite master completely on her own willpower. “Most of our peers have become rather fixated on other things as of late and I’m bored.”

Relena seemed about to say something when a movement drew her eyes just beyond Dorothy’s shoulders. Dorothy didn’t bother looking. They both had protective details that rotated in and out through the course of the day. If she bothered to look, Relena would have one or two if not more of her own. Those personal bodyguards made a public lunch possible for politically divisive persons such as themselves.

“I haven’t seen Wufei lately,” Relena stated, fully aware that she had found a tender point of observation.

“He’s no longer responsible for that type of service,” Dorothy explained, blandly. She reached for the napkin and clenched it once before tossing it onto her plate. “I suppose you did see him with Mariemaia.”

“No,” replied Relena with a long-suffering exhalation. “I meant I haven’t seen him. He wasn’t with Mariemaia. Now that I think of it, she didn’t even ask about him.”

“That man is unique,” Dorothy dismissed, waving over a nearby waitress. “A glass of ice water. Heavy on the crushed ice.”

“Need something satisfying to gnash?” Relena covered over her coy smile.

Dorothy relented and grinned back. “Always.”

***

“If you’re going to smoke, take it outside,” Nichol grumbled. He fanned his face while visible traces of the offending atmosphere swirled around his dark, curled hair. “Barton! I said...”

“Yeah, what?” Trowa replied, hardly opening his lips from around the freshly lit cigarette. He shuffled his cards and with exaggerated pleasure glanced around the card table. “I live here too.”

“And what a vast improvement,” Wufei muttered. “I can actually see the carpet.”

Nichol interjected, “Now there’s a haze in the room!”

“Unlike some people, I know how to put things away,” Trowa chuckled, ignoring the venomous stare from the older man. He dropped a few poker chips in the pot and made his play. “I’m always cleaning up your messes, aren’t I, Nick?”

“What?” Nichol sputtered, even in the dimmed lamplight his face turned a berry purple. “You’re the one crashing here, I’m not the one who needs a roommate!”

Wufei calculated his losses but kept in the game. Most of the other players had already gone home due to the late hour, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. His fingers shook a little when he pulled his hand back to the cards. Involuntary reaction. He swallowed hard and made a smirk on his face. He said, “Keep your friends close…”

“And your enemies closer,” Nichol chuckled. “Alrighty, Barton. Put Chang and me out of our misery here. You’ve been bluffing a good hand just to drag us along.”

“Nope,” Trowa shook his head. “I would never drag you along, love. I’m absolutely serious about you”

With an affectionate grumble, Nichol snatched the whisky bottle to his chest and declared, “No more booze for anyone tonight if you think you’re going to start hitting on me.”

“A joke… only a joke. Always thinking I’m serious.” Trowa settled back into his chair, shaking his head. “You see, Wufei? No one carries a torch longer than Nick here. I was just a kid when Nick was crushing on Une. Still, to let it go on so long? Do something about it or give up is what I tell him.”

“Shh,” Nichol began waving his hands again, furtively casting a panicked look at Wufei.

“But Nick’s not the only one to know how that goes, eh Wufei?” Trowa set down his cards. The game was up.

Suddenly off the hook, Nichol raised his brow. “Intrigued, do go on….”

Wufei wished his glass hadn’t been empty for the last hour. But even for all his sobriety, the distance of the room began to stretch, elongating the distance between himself and the other two men so that the table seemed miles long and the room an extended, dark tunnel.

“Who caught this one’s attention?” Nichol was saying, a muffled sound to Wufei’s ears.

“Have you gone to see her? At least to say hello?” Trowa’s hushed voice followed.

“Who is she?” repeated Nichol.

The echoes enhanced a strange pit of isolation inside his limbs. His skull rattled like an empty box with no helpful insights or excuses. He hadn’t seen Mariemaia for quite a while, and the prospect of all the changes between them was incalculable. He hadn’t trusted himself to behave properly, and to be a fool wasn’t something he could accept. Should he have shared those questions with someone? But what was personal was private.

“Why didn’t I say something when I had a chance?” He heard his own voice.

“What?” Trowa asked. “Say again?”

“I had lost this game before we even started.” Wufei stood up and offered to shake hands. “I’m an old man and should know better than to play for real stakes.”

Nichol accepted the gesture. Trowa pinched his nose, bemused eyes cast toward the ceiling.

***

Mariemaia settled her chin into her palm and turned in the desk chair to stare out the window. Summer in the colonies changed into fall. The tree leaves had new colors outlining the fading green. Daylight was gradually easing back into longer nights. That was a certain sign that this colony was doing well. Crime was down. Darkness could be safe.

But the whole place didn’t smell like autumn. For all the charms and comforts of an artificial environment, Mariemaia missed the unpredictable normal.

She tapped her finger against the newly sharpened tip of her pencil. For a moment, she imagined she was a princess and this was the spinning wheel needle. Why had no one warned her? Or she should have suspected: going to the colonies was like falling into a deep sleep.

But she would have to wake herself up. Princes were in short supply. No, that wasn’t quite right, either. None of the colonists really knew her well enough to recognize the difference. Not like her friends, her family, the people already important to her.

She tapped the pencil tip against the desk leaving stray marks on the lined paper. No it wasn’t that princes were in short supply.

She was more afraid that when she woke up, no one was going to be there.

“Hey, Marie!” On the lawn in the shadow of the building, stood a boy.

Mariemaia went to the open window. Softening somewhat she called down, “Are you ready for the exam?”

He shook his head. “Are you?”

“Studying.” She glanced back at the pencil. So what if her prince didn’t exist? Perhaps the princess could distract herself. She had her own life afterall. Grinning, she commanded, “Get your books and let’s do this together. The professors expect more from us upperclassmen right?”

Waving enthusiastically, he agreed, “I’ll be right back!”

***

Une lifted the receiver and dialed a number from memory. She pulled her feet up from the floor and tucked them under the blanket. The fireplace crackled with the new bursts of light casting warm patterns around Une’s favorite sitting room. She lived in a big house and with Mariemaia gone for so much of the year, it seemed empty no matter how many rooms she closed up for the winter season.

“Hello?” Wufei answered.

“You might as well turn around and visit with me for a little while,” Une invited. She smiled. “Don’t even try protesting. The snowplows went hours ago and no one else drives along these country lanes except you. I know that was you.”

“Habit,” came his voice.

Habit, he said? Mariemaia hadn’t always lived in this house. Before the paperwork finished and the adoption was official, Mariemaia had an apartment as part of the custody of the Earth government. This habit started there and moved to follow that girl. Une had eventually become comfortable with the idea that Wufei was part of the package of adopting Mariemaia. To a point, Une almost regretted his resolve not to follow the same child to the colonies.

Perhaps she should have made it clear that if he was someone Mariemaia wanted then Une couldn’t think of anyone she would trust her daughter with more.

She gave him directions this time. “I’m in the front study, follow the light. And the door is unlocked.”

“Une,” he scolded. But she could hear the car in the drive. The door opened and a wild gust of wind whistled down the hall and trembled at the edges of her hair.

“Then lock it behind you.” She set the phone back in its cradle.

A quick glance toward the doorway showed he had taken off his shoes and had tugged up the end of his snow damp pants. The wind had cut pink across his cheeks under the dark, caught eyes that wouldn’t quite meet hers.

“Tea pot is on the stove, if you want any,” she offered. He silently disappeared and she heard the occasional familiar noise of someone else in the house.

Une closed her eyes. For all the desire to pretend otherwise, she would never have heard Mariemaia making tea. That girl preferred everything to be premade and was more likely to pour a glass of juice than prep water for a hot drink. They had kept tea in the house primarily for one particular guest.

“What have you been doing with your free time?” she asked as he returned.

Wufei sat in the chair that had belonged to Treize’s grandfather. If he knew, would he still have chosen that one? At one time, Treize had spared Wufei’s life. Did he suspect that the same brash young boy would chase after Mariemaia with almost more enthusiasm? But neither Wufei nor Mariemaia were children anymore, and perhaps they would realize that for themselves. Was that what Une hoped for?

She revised, “What are you doing besides keeping a regular patrol of my home, thank you.”

“You let your staff go home,” he noted.

“It’s the new year holiday. And I’ve already worked them to exhaustion with all the Christmas Eve annual hoopla,” Une reasoned. “I noticed you weren’t there.”

He shrugged, setting the too hot tea on a coaster. “Seniority. I had the day off and I don’t work protection duty anymore.”

“Nichol says you’ve dropped off the weekly poker game.”

He picked up the drink and from the furrow of his brows, probably burnt his tongue.

“Something else on that night,” he lied. “Came up. Just something.”

***

The Preventer office assigned to Wufei faced the fields to the east. During training days, he could keep his eyes on the youngest recruits and handpick the ones best suited to his own teams. Even if he wasn’t taking protective assignments any more, he knew what skills were needed and how to develop those talents.

On Saturday mornings, the same view afforded him the perfect vantage point for a spectacular sunrise. He typically sat at his desk with every intention of doing taking in the view. However that morning he booted up his computer to finish drafting his expense sheet for the new year. The same meaningless paperwork Une had asked for six months ago.

A habitual glance at his office email took him by surprise.

When had Mariemaia sent him a message? He clicked it open before hesitation could stall his movement.

“Is this on?” Mariemaia said. He could see her chin and then when she sat back he relaxed a little under the recorded grin of the woman who intrigued him the most. She seemed to sparkle in the colony sunset.

“Okay, so I know that you refuse to let us celebrate your birthday because it’s so close to the holidays. But I was talking to some of my friends here when I got to thinking you could do something on your half birthday. That’s nowhere near Christmas. And guess what! It’s the same day that I’m shuttling back for the summer term. Well, that’s the plan.”

Wufei pushed his fingers into his forehead. His birthday? What date had he put in the system?

Mariemaia quit rambling and in the recording, her eyes seemed incapable of keeping onto the camera. “Coming back is a surprise. Une thinks I’m taking one of those four-week cram classes. So if you could pick me up from the station… that would be keeping with the surprise. And maybe we could do something together?”

In the background of the video the dorm door opened. A young man walked into the room. “Marie, it’s really dark in here. Why don’t you turn on some lights?”

“Ah, you’re early!” The girl spun around and Wufei had an eyeful of how long her hair had grown. “Shh! I’m almost finished.” Her pale eyes returned to the screen, close for all the miles of space between them. “Sorry, I’ve got to study. I’ll see you soon. Don’t disappoint me.”

The image froze on the last moment of the recording. A crooked grin was on her face, but overall she wore an expression of uncertainty as if she’d been caught in some ill-advised action. Overtop her slender shoulder was the weight of the college boy’s hand.

He pushed the keyboard away and scowled out the window. They hadn’t talked in so long and her first communication was to ask for a pick-up favor. But all that talk about birthdays? What had that been about? He called up his own record and saw the December date he’d given the Preventers all those years ago.

“June…” he calculated. “Tomorrow?”

Standing up forcefully enough that the chair wheeled back into the opposite wall, he crossed to the window. Settling his forehead against the cool of the glass, he knew he would go.

Perhaps if he faced the inevitable? Perhaps if she began with some story about her relationship to the college boy? He could give up that peculiar wistfulness that wanted to try. He needed her to give up on him. He couldn’t.

Perhaps he could try again with Dorothy.

 _It’s time to let go. Be with the person you’re with…_ Dorothy had said. But it had never worked. He could lose himself in the job, he could turn off his mind with a duty or an assignment, but with people? Things became confused. He drifted, distracted… toward that stubborn girl who had become part of his life.

Perhaps he might try again.

***

She walked off the shuttle, retrieved her luggage and then decided to order a coffee at the shuttle port shop. Finding a place to sit, Mariemaia crossed her legs at the knee. She let her toes tap her luggage as if to confirm it hadn’t wandered away. She recognized a few faces that became familiar after the long flight together. One man kissed his wife before lifting their child into his arms. Another woman ordered her beverage then smartly took her luggage just outside the doors to hail a taxi. She listened to the mechanical voice call another shuttle boarding.

Eventually, after her coffee had gone cold, a shadow crossed her table.

“I didn’t know if you were going to show up,” she admitted. “I wondered if I should call a cab.”

“You didn’t give much advance warning,” Wufei complained. She couldn’t resist a smile at seeing his stern demeanor. He’d worn his uniform, even on a Sunday and his hair, while slightly longer, was still tied back in a thin tail.

She had sent the message late. And impulsively. And when she thought about it, maybe playing all her cards would prove foolish. She could have left things as they were. Robert would have liked that. Robert wanted them to become something more than study friends, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the person she trusted the most, believed in the most, and loved the most was the person she had left behind. Her prince that would never chase her directly.

To see him again, all the feelings she had doubted flooded back, immediate and tangible. Still true. She would never accept Robert when she couldn’t yet cut free of this infatuation.

“And yet here you are,” she said, standing and finding herself suddenly loose-limbed in relief. “Always here when I ask for a ride.”

“Always?” He shook his head. “I almost didn’t get your message. Last minute arrangements, Mariemaia? I might not be here at all.” He frowned. “Where are your guards?”

“I told them you were coming to fetch me,” she dodged. She casually swiveled the handle of her luggage toward him. “So where did you park?”

They managed a polite conversation during the ride, including the comfortable aspects of school and employment, mutual friends. She closed her eyes from the scenery that defined home, and enjoyed the sounds of his voice that defined something else entirely.

Une’s surprise went over well. The older woman opened the door to see Wufei first and then her brown eyes swam under a shine of happiness as she scolded, “I thought I taught you better than to show up unannounced.”

“Only you, Mother,” Mariemaia said, covertly wiping her own eyes behind their embrace. A bustle of movement had servants going to arrange a mid-afternoon meal while Mariemaia circled the front study admiring the ridiculous, little things Une added into Treize’s collection.

She had wanted a more isolated opportunity with Wufei. Some moment with more meaning, when perhaps he would pull her aside to acknowledge Mariemaia as a person worthy of his affections. She imagined being invited to a fancy dress dinner or solitary stroll. But so far since the moment he arrived, Wufei had quickly moved onto the next task or aimed for the nearest exit.

“Oh,” Mariemaia said, feigning a sudden remembrance. Wufei had finally submitted to sit, as if bored, in one of the chairs. “I have something for you. A late birthday present.”

Finding the prize, she lifted the clumsily wrapped item and made to toss it at him. Only he had stealthily appeared behind her and accepted the package from her hands.

“Thanks,” he said. The paper and present rippled in his grasp. “What is this?”

“Something I made, although it might not be practical again until the fall.”

Une came back into the room and watched the exchange. She sat on the sofa and waved her hand. “I’d like to see what this is.”

The paper landed on the floor as Wufei held the knit sweater at arms length. It had a lazy, diagonal design that moved into points or waves depending on how tired or how skillful her fingers were at any given moment.

“My first attempt. Go on then, try it on,” Mariemaia encouraged. She chewed her lip.

Wufei tugged off his shirt, a simple white t-shirt underneath did nothing to hide the evidence of his long training. He flexed his arms into the knit sleeves then searched for a place to put his head with some overstated effort. In her own dismay, Mariemaia started to laugh.

Only after a moment, it became clear his exaggeration was rather accurate. His eyes peered over the edge of the neckline as he wrestled to maneuver the material over his shoulders with little success.

After a moment of struggling, he went still and stated, “I don’t want to tear it.”

“Mariemaia, stop laughing and help him. You got him into the mess,” Une instructed with a wave of her own fingers. She pressed them against her lips as to prevent a smile from forming or perhaps to hold back her own burst of laughter.

“It’s too small,” Wufei said, completely entangled in the material of blue and green.

“It’s not!” retorted Mariemaia. She had obviously made a miscalculation. “It’s not too small. You’re too big!”

“How can this be my fault?” he scoffed. “If a shirt is made for me it should fit me.”

“I’ll have to try again,” conceded Mariemaia, relieved at his familiar attitude. He left her too amused to be devastated any longer. She was glad just to share something with him, even if it was only his time, even if it happened in Une’s company. And if that was all she could scheme for, all she could ever have, she missed it. “But you might be out of luck. I’m rather past my knitting phase.”

Wufei released his arms and thoughtfully refolded the sweater. His eyes were kind. “You’ll have to try again.”

***

“Is she going to play poker or not?” Nichol grumbled, reaching into the bowl and taking another handful of chips. Trowa entertained himself with reshuffling the card using more and more acrobatic moves with each effort.

Not long after Wufei had quit, Trowa had wrestled one or two of his other friends to keep the game night alive. Dorothy had been the more enthusiastic of the new faces, but this night she was sitting on the couch going through one of Trowa’s shoeboxes of snapshots.

“Are you always that impatient?” Dorothy called out, obviously not missing a word for all the intensity she was giving to a photograph.

Trowa set down the cards and hopped over to join her on the couch. How the taller man managed to fold himself into the narrow space between Dorothy and the armrest had to be another of his circus tricks. Nichol gave up waiting at the table and followed leaving his own trail of crumbs.

“Oh, look at that one,” Trowa pointed. “You looked very nice in that dress, Dotty.”

“Even for a failed relationship, Quatre sure did bring out your better fashion sense,” Dorothy grinned. “Oh look at this one. I was so much skinnier back then.”

Nichol sat in the more generous space on Dorothy’s other side. She gave him a stay-off stare with a dangerously forked eyebrow. He raised his hands in self-defense.

She allowed a significant pause before adding, rather saucily, “You’re supposed to say that I look better now.”

“You look better now,” Nichol repeated, monotone. She ignored his effort.

“These are from Une’s parties. She always picks this location. Oh, here’s Sylvia. Post the dramatic break-up, isn’t it?” Dorothy purred.

“Fair is fair,” Trowa chuckled. Then he added more seriously, “She’s good for him.”

The pictures shuffled. Nichol vaguely remembered some event in that scenery. Had it been a graduation party? For Une’s daughter? Well, Treize’s daughter. She was a pretty little thing and he was theoretically glad that she’d had a somewhat decent childhood after the nightmarish and brief, second Gundam War.

“Remember this one, darling?” Trowa teased. “Another failed relationship from the past.”

“Wufei and I were never anything,” Dorothy retorted.

“I don’t blame you for trying,” Trowa shrugged. “Unlike Heero, Wufei can pull off handsome, brooding _and_ emotional all at one time. Say, did he ever fess up to that girl of his? Mariemaia. She has to be how old now?”

“Wufei fancied _Mariemaia_?” Nichol interjected. He laughed in surprise.

“Well, yes,” Trowa glanced around at him. “I thought I told you that?”

“Just that he was holding a torch for someone, but Treize’s kid? I would have remembered.”

“She’s not a child,” Dorothy corrected. “Not any more than we ever were. Not really.” With a thoughtful sigh, she tossed the pictures back into the box and stood up. “So fellas,” she grinned. “Ready to lose some money?”

***

Mariemaia was surprised by Dorothy’s invitation back to the bar. Dorothy was her mother’s friend. Nonetheless, the location still had an alluring reputation as a seedy joint. Perhaps she wanted to see it again now that she was older. Perhaps she wanted to return to the scene of her first effort to secure Wufei’s attention.

“I can’t believe you let me play on that stage,” Mariemaia groaned.

“Well, you all were so young and cute and oh-so entertaining,” Dorothy chuckled, sitting opposite from Mariemaia in the booth. “That night you managed to do something I’ve never accomplished before or since.”

“Having an underage performer?”

“No,” Dorothy mock sighed. She grinned wickedly, the lights gradually dimmed and a few strobes by the stage flickered in rehearsal prep. “For you, Wufei actually crossed the threshold.”

“He was here,” Mariemaia stated, bemused and her stomach clenched all at the same time. Her childish crush hadn’t been misplaced. He had cared enough to go even if he never told her. Would she have understood that then? She’d been too young at the time. But now? Now she was older.

“Why did you call me here?” Wufei asked, suddenly appearing at her side.

Mariemaia’s heart jumped into her throat and she nearly choked up her drink. He lingered by Mariemaia but addressed Dorothy again. “Moreover, your security is too lax. The guys at the door just opened up without asking about my business.”

“Wufei, isn’t it obvious?” Dorothy laughed. She stood and offered her seat. “I’m just going to go away for a while. Got some fickle artists in the back to console. Stage fright.”

Instead of sitting in the vacated seat, Wufei sat down right next to Mariemaia. He locked his fingers together and set them on the booth table. “You didn’t know Dorothy called me?”

“Ah, no.” Mariemaia shook her head. “But it’s okay… I wasn’t quite sure why she called me. I was… we aren’t. She wasn’t my friend.”

“I don’t know if she’s really anyone’s friend,” he replied. “Well, except Une’s. And Trowa’s. And maybe Quatre… and Relena…. Well, not my friend.”

“I thought you were friends.” Mariemaia grabbed her drink and swallowed fast. “I mean it’s okay if you are. Just friends.”

“We’re not more than friends,” he repeated, rather earnestly. Then he frowned at her. His finger pressed into the table like an accusation. “He called you _Marie_.”

She blinked. “Who?”

“That boy, on the recorded video from your school. He called you _Marie_.”

“Oh, him? I didn’t ask him to call me that. He just does.” Her stomach did a strange flipflop. “He’s nothing. He’s smart… in class I mean. Smart to know the smart boy, right? Helped my grades a lot.”

“And there aren’t any smart women?”

“What are you…? Of course there are smart girls too!” Mariemaia was shocked. Then she realized. “Hold on. You _want_ me to find a smart girl instead. I… can’t believe it. Are you, actually, jealous? Of me?” She wet her lips. “Jealous for me?”

When he didn’t answer she reached up to pull at his chin, tugging his face toward her. “It’s about time. Because if I’m jealous. And if you’re jealous, I just have to… show you there’s no reason to be? Yeah?”

“Marie…” he started.

“Finish,” she said. “Please say my name. The way that you say it.”

“…aia,” he huffed. Then with a grumpy edge he repeated, “Mariemaia.”

“Do I have to walk you thought this? Don’t you know? I thought you were married before,” she paused. That got his attention, but he didn’t seem angry. “And I’m just me. I’m not something awful. I’m your same ol’ Mariemaia. _Your_ Mariemaia… if that’s okay.” She suddenly felt very unsure. Not of her own heart, but of his--his complicated, wonderful, terrifying, magnificent heart.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asked rather suddenly. His tone was abrupt, but she caught the rather fierce curiosity in his eyes.

“Well, not properly.” She suddenly was very aware of her lips and his and the space in between and the question of what came next.

The silence between them lingered decorated with darkness and flickering lights. She leaned forward. Was he going to make her kiss him? Should she? Why not?

“So…?” she asked.

“May I kiss you?” he replied, with a stiffness that for him could only be natural.

She chuckled. This was her Wufei. Hers. She liked the sound of that. She was going to keep him forever.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

“Well, not yet.”

“Not yet?” he started to sound somewhat cross.

“Shouldn’t you ask my mom?”

“Ask Une what? I thought you said you were mine?” He threw up his hands, becoming exacerbated. But he didn’t leave or get up, if anything he seemed very much closer than before. His leg pushed into her knee.

“Ask her… if you can marry me,” she teased, holding a straight face as best she could. She did appreciate how broad his shoulders seemed as his hand settled on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to be married to get a kiss,” he argued. “One thing at a time.”

“Hmm, but all things in good time?” She tilted her head. Her fingers combed her hair back and nothing remained between them but tentative, ridiculous smiles. She really liked it when Wufei smiled.

“Ready?” he warned, but he had to know she would never refuse him. He was the person who sought her out and showed up whenever she asked him. He watched her in a certain way she could only describe as feeling a little like the center of the universe.

“I think I’m ready, yes. Definitely, yes.”

Then, she kissed him.


End file.
